


Music to my Ears

by Bluepaw265



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: (ignoring that many other people have followed this path), An inside look at Cal's inner torment, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Cal Kestis Character Study, Cal Kestis Needs a Hug, Cere Junda is a Good Master, Character Study, Gen, Happy/satisfying ending, Kinda Fluffy, Psychometry, Spoilers, because we need this, ish, like every master seems to have for some reason, or music, with cool insight and wisdom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21964966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluepaw265/pseuds/Bluepaw265
Summary: Music has always been able to calm his nerves. It kept him in the present, allowed him to work effectively and in relative peace in Bracca, helped him sleep when his thoughts kept him awake.Sometimes, the loss of music was something that left a deep, gaping hole in his chest - wide, fanged jaws that only growled and howled the more he neglected it.[Or, after the events of Jedi: Fallen Order, Cal struggles with his thoughts and reflects on his affinity for music.]
Relationships: BD-1 & Cal Kestis, Cere Junda & Cal Kestis
Comments: 12
Kudos: 105





	Music to my Ears

**Author's Note:**

> Because of my unavoidable addiction to this game, I couldn't resist writing something about it. 
> 
> Inspired by Cal's reaction to Cere's guitar-looking instrument when he started playing + the headphones he had at the start of the game that mysteriously vanished. 
> 
> Also, apologies if my tense changes annoy/frustrates anyone. Not sure if they're correct or not. 
> 
> Anyway, hope everyone enjoys this angsty thing.

**Music to my Ears**

Music has always been able to calm his nerves. It kept him in the present, allowed him to work effectively and in relative peace in Bracca, helped him sleep when his thoughts kept him awake.

However, in the mess of the day he used the Force, faced the Second Sister, killed Prauf, his soothing mechanism was lost. And maybe it wasn’t something he thought about much in those days after his narrow escape, running around to follow a complex path to save the Jedi Order, but he certainly did when he lay in bed, staring at the Mantis’ ceiling with his darkest thoughts biting his nerves. Or when he woke from a nightmare, breaths shallow like he was fighting to survive a Force Choke. Even in the middle of a panic attack, where his lungs were icy and immobile but his body was hot as a lightsabre digging into his side.

Sometimes, the loss of music was something that left a deep, gaping hole in his chest – wide, fanged jaws that only growled and howled the more he neglected it.

Maybe that’s something that keeps him awake, too. Where the doubt and the fear reside, not only for himself but for his friends – people who believe in him, trust him like he’s never been before. There’s pressure in that, sure, but it pushes away the darkness inside him, if only for a moment.

Cal twists in his cot, ending up with his right side squished against the mattress, enticing a small sting from his still-healing sabre wound. Yeah, it sure is nice, being reliable. But being a Jedi enforces danger – and caution. Since their escape from Nur only a couple weeks ago, Cal’s been instructed to rest and heal while they recover and figure out their next move on Bogano.

For a while, he could deliver on both tasks, the pain in his side wearing him down. However, now that his mind is abuzz with haunting memories and stressful thoughts, Cal can’t help but give up on his futile mission. No matter how tired his body is, given this is his third night without decent rest, it seems his mind is still wide awake.

Cal slowly sits up and twists his legs around to the edge of his cot, careful not to wake up his droid, who is tucked up in the corner where he usually meditates, charging.

During his travels, meditation has become an easier and far more relaxing experience than it once was. However, lately, it has become as fruitless as sleep. There’s been a presence in the Force, sadistic and terrifying, and Cal struggles to mask his presence in the face of such a dominating power – one that reminds him too much of the Sith Lord they had no chance of defeating.

Wiping a hand over his face, Cal sighs quietly, so not to wake his little buddy. Thinking about Darth Vader has not been kind, especially with the memory of his own lightsabre burning a hole in his side searing his eyes whenever the terrifyingly prevalent Force user sneaks into his thoughts. Or how his throat clogged up and he yelled when Cere was shoved off the platform – a long minute where he thought she was dead and he was all alone, gut churning with guilt and pain. That moment when the Sith emerged from the door like an unshakeable shadow and Cal truly thought this was it – he was going to die.

A shaky breath tears itself from his throat, a sudden jab in his side pulling him from his thoughts. If only he had music; maybe then, these haunting memories could be silenced. Even something to build would work, if the healing wound in his side permitted him from doing so.

It comes back to the wound his own lightsabre inflicted, it always does –

Cal stands before his thoughts catch him again, perhaps a bit too fast for his side pulls and burns, leaving the Jedi a little breathless. _Got to get out of here._ He thinks, pressing a hand against the wall to stabilise himself. _Sitting here isn’t going to help._

It’s with a slow shuffle that Cal progresses down the small hallway, mindful of how every occupant on this ship sleeps with one eye open. He’s certain Cere would wake up to the sound of footsteps, so he makes sure to go past like a feather on the breeze – a stark contrast to his brutal method of fighting the Empire.

And yeah, that brings a whole other box of scraps to deal with, one that would undoubtedly leave him standing in front of Cere’s room for Force knows how long, so he shakes it off his shoulders like the reminder is but a papercut, not the mortal wound it is, and makes his legs move until he’s walking past a complete Terrarium on dull illumination and sitting on the plush orange couch. The orange looks more like a dusty brown in the light of the holotable, Bogano spinning around on its display.

Cal’s not really sure what he thinks he’s going to achieve here when he couldn’t do anything in his room, since the doors of the Mantis are up and lowering them would wake everyone up. He kind of just stares at the glowing display for a while, acknowledging how it makes Greez’s chair in the cockpit shine. It reminds Cal of a star – there’s beauty in it, sure, but the light doesn’t reach everywhere. The middle is dark, filled with conflicting thoughts – makes him wonder if this is how he feels right now, bright on the outside, an inferno on the inside.

Shaking his head, Cal leans forward to rest his elbows on the table, only to find them hit a wooden object he hadn’t seen before.

When he focuses on it, Cal immediately recognises it. Cere’s instrument, the one she caught him playing to soothe himself when he first arrived on the Mantis.

A part of him knows this is what he came out here to find – the part of him that relishes all kinds of music. Before he knows it, he’s gripping the spine of the instrument, the force echo sinking a melody into his skull. He’s swaying to the beat that is being hummed in the echo, Cere playing in front of a small crowd – all close friends.

Cal doesn’t know when he closes his eyes or when he starts strumming the notes – it just happens, and he can’t bring himself out of these happy retrieves. Students gasping in awe as their Master pulls out her instrument, beginning her song. A Padawan swaying to the beat, smiling. An injured Jedi relaxing when the music begins, their tense sleep easing into blissful peace.

The echoes all blur into one as the chords are plucked, fingers gracefully dancing along the frets to find the correct notes. He sways like Cere had all those years ago, feeling the music resonating in his gut like a reassuring, welcoming fire, like the Force has been since he repaired his connection – except for a couple days ago, when a dark, hungry predator was prowling and almost detected him.

He inhales and exhales to the beat, the thoughts that would’ve followed flowing past him as he strikes another chord, fingers vibrating as the note’s duration lengthens. After, there’s a pause, like the very essence of this song is holding its breath.

“It’s called Rebirth.” Cal starts, torn from the echo with a violence he knows wasn’t Cere’s intention, but still leaves him panting and sabre wound aching when he snaps his head to look at her. In the dull light of the Terrarium, Cere wears a dirty grey undershirt and her usual cargos; she leans against the bench of Greez’s plant collection, eyes tired. “Some people thought it meant death and their rebirth into the Force. Others believed it was a reflection of ranking up in the Jedi Order.”

Cal frowns. The noise must have woken her up, but she doesn’t seem angry, considering this is the fifth time she’s caught him awake…and last time she yelled at him for it. Instead, she just seems…weary. _Has she had trouble sleeping, too?_

Instead of voicing his thoughts, Cal asks, “What do you believe?”

A small smile envelopes her face, something that heals the cracks in her face, makes her not seem like she’s falling apart, too. “I don’t know what my original intent was, but now…” She stares at Cal, intently enough that he knows there’s a meaningful message to learn here. “I believe that no matter what decisions we make, we can still become who we once were.” A bitter smile stretches across her face, now, eyes glassy and distant. “No matter how deep our sins are.”

Cal knows what she’s talking about, here. Trilla. The Second Sister, who turned to their side in her last moments. However, it also feels like something inside him has stirred and calmed simultaneously.

The idea of becoming an Inquisitor, even tasting a couple of Trilla’s own memories of her torment, is one that Cal has revoked and been repulsed by since he first saw himself in their garb in the images he received during the final test to collect the Holocron. Ones that made him so sick he locked himself in the bathroom for a few hours after a nightmare about capturing and torturing his friends during his first week of recovery.

That Cere has just said he can redeem himself like Trilla had if he ever does fall…

It’s a weight off his shoulders that he knew nothing about.

“Cere…” Is all Cal can say, struggling to find the words to convey his gratitude. “I…” He stutters for a moment, still thinking, before settling on the simple response, forcing every bit of his appreciation to seep into his words. “Thank you.”

She only smiles, before nodding back towards their rooms. “Now, come on. You need to rest, Cal.” At his grimace, Cere continues. “If you want, I can play some music until you fall asleep.”

Tension flows from his frame, pride already swallowed in the face of multiple sleepless nights, and when Cal is lying in bed and Cere is sitting beside him, strumming the notes he knows so well, Cal can’t help but think this is what he’s needed.

Just being able to relax and fall asleep despite his torment – even have a friend who would help him achieve this when dealing with their own demons…

It’s music to his ears.

**Author's Note:**

> Any feedback on story, errors, or ideas is welcome and appreciated. 
> 
> Have a great day/night, everyone!


End file.
